Ancient history revisited (Part One)…

Ancient history revisited (Part One)…

On a separate blog, a very VERY long time ago, I posted this exploration into the foundation of Christianity and Jesus.

As I have no desire whatsoever to link this blog to that one, I will occasionally reproduce the content from one into the other.

Link to this? Dandy. Steal it? I will come after you. Ask questions? By all means. Rant? You can’t imagine how fast I will block you.

We begin…


January 7 & 8, 2006: I was just thinking about this…

In the middle of the funeral this morning (yes, I went, alone), I had an epiphany of my own, thanks to the references of the priest to the old testament and the Jewish thoughts on death.

How on earth did we go so far away from the original concept, that we had to be *led* by someone, deified or otherwise, to the right place? At what point did Hell get introduced and why? Is it a Greek thing? Roman? How odd… I’m open to discussion on this one.

Meanwhile, here’s the results of the latest quiz. I’m not shocked at all. And I’m actually looking forward to the visit to the UU congregation tomorrow. Spoke to another mother at my kid’s nursery school, and she’s been attending their services on and off for a while. Really likes them, too.

Anyway, I digress…

Mahavira
You two would probably really get along!
Founder of Jainism
“Non-violence and kindness to living beings is kindness to oneself. For
thereby one’s own self is saved from various kinds of sins and
resultant sufferings and is able to secure his own welfare.”
My test tracked 4 variables How you compared to other people your age and gender:

You scored higher than 38% on Intuitive
You scored higher than 66% on Structured
You scored higher than 84% on Mildness
You scored higher than 33% on Traditional
Link: The Religion Founder You Resemble Test written by Stinkbot

Major religion musings here. You’ve been warned…

The UU service was definitely the right choice.

I’ve already determined a couple of things: First, the minister seems to share my recent enlightenment in regards to the Bible. I could be wrong – it will likely take more than a single sermon to know for sure – but it is interesting that right after yesterday’s disturbing experience with the funeral (and right on the heels of the one I endured in November), I can finally put a solid finger on the disturbing elements of taking Jesus as a personal Savior.

I talked with DH about this last night on the way home from the party. It took me pretty much all night to unwind from the experience. I almost didn’t go – digestive system out of whack (and going to a real food party there was a real chance I wouldn’t be able to enjoy the feast), sleep way off, out of sorts and very shaky in emotional stability. The sheer volume of loss this last six months finally settled in. It wasn’t just Ms. M. It was: BG, KT, MW, LC’s mom, assorted loved pets, and…and… That isn’t all. Thursday, one of the moms I’ve been seeing at the bus stop told me her 38 year old brother was on life support because he let pneumonia get out of hand. I hope she got to Florida in time.

I always watch the memorial segment of the Oscars, too. We lost a bunch of people then as well.

But the key feature of the list above is that with the exception of BG and LC’s mom, none of the rest were older than 48, and all of them left with little or no warning at all.

And what bugged me ever so much at the funeral yesterday, which bothered me at the prior service, and at the one for DH’s “cousin” S, wasn’t just the whole hell thing. It’s this, and it’s a lot more inflammatory for those who believe in Christianity: Jesus, whether or not he intended to be, has become an undying cult leader. It wasn’t enough to think that last night, but I’m not the only one who thinks this is the case. It’s amazing. Well over a billion followers.

How presumptuous: Nobody can make it to heaven except by following Jesus – literally – he has taken the role of the leader from this world to the next. Believing in God isn’t enough.

Obviously I need to pick up a Bible. I’ve needed to read the old testament for a very long time, because it is literature and it’s important, since so many people are guided by it. But I need to figure out if I’m just imagining this or I really am seeing it. And then I need to figure out how to reconcile this so that the next time I have to go to a funeral at a Christian church, I can sit through the service and not simply steam in my own digestive juices.

Interestingly, I’m listening to the story the minister quoted, in a sermon discussing sacrifice, Eid, and Abraham. I know why they’re showing this on PBS – obviously it’s because of Eid on Tuesday. But what I didn’t realize was how closely tied Muslim, Jewish and Christian faith was. And how far the others have been controverted to the purposes of the Bible. And there is nothing more controverted than the conversion of the Jewish belief that there is simply a better place to go after one dies, then the belief that only through Jesus can one actually get there after death.

Yeah. I’m paraphrasing. I don’t have time to go to the book and look it up. (Errands to run and all that.) I want to get this idea out of my head and onto “paper” before I lose the thread. Some time soon, though, I think I’m going to add another actual essay to the “Writings” page on my site.

To those of my friends who have gotten this far, and who believe, I’ve determined that I am not agnostic. There is a description for what I believe, but there is no appropriate label for who I believe in. God is as close as it comes. And by setting anything in the way of God, as a mouthpiece or humanization of that “deep magic”, it somehow cheapens for me the value of the belief itself.

I’m going to spend more time on this over the next year. If this year is any indication, there are going to be a lot more of these ordeals to be survived in the coming years and I need to prepare myself for the onslaught.

Just saw the BE EMPOWERED commercial on PBS – the one about the fish who decides the bowl isn’t enough. It finds a way to swim with the salmon instead. I think that’s me.

Time for bookkeeping. More soon…

Comments:

DF:
You might look at some of the “mystical” Christian writings and the Sufis, who are the mystical sect of Islam. Mystical in this sense means seeking a direct experience with God. (Wikipedia article on Christian mysticism here) The Christians tend not to dwell on the whole “Christ as your personal savior” and “you must be SAVED” put focus on the “God in everyone” aspect, which is one of the central tenants of UU and Quakerism as well.

I tend to be more deist when you get right down to it. I believe that there is a higher power up there and he/she’s done a lot of cool things but we’re really cool too and shouldn’t use said higher power as a crutch. That and @#$! happens.

I’ve got a couple books on Christian mystics and Sufis if you want to borrow them sometime.

Me:
Yeah, maybe… When I have some more time and I’ve done the thing I really need to do – which is read the book itself, so I have a formal footing for my heresy… 😎

SC:
I’ve determined that I am not agnostic. There is a description for what I believe, but there is no appropriate label for who I believe in. God is as close as it comes.

Surely you’ve heard heard of “deism”?

Me:
Nope. Still too formal.

Checked Google under “define: deism”, and got this back (amongst others):

“Deism is a belief in God as revealed by nature and reason, not scripture and faith. Deism is a free-thought philosophy, much like Agnosticism, Atheism or Pantheism in that it rejects the dogmas and superstitions of religion in favor of individual reason and empirical observation of the universe. The Deist sees an order and architecture to the universe that indicates an Intelligent Creator or First Cause. …”

Like I said, God is the wrong term. Deep magic is closer, but still not right. I don’t think any”one” set about making the universe happen, but that force which makes things happen (perpetual motion, lifeforce, whatever) has to have some sort of name in my head, and for that I suppose God is a useful term. Might as well be Doll or Foo or Whatever, except that folks have a clue about the meaning of the word God in relation to the universe.

Just my muddled interpretation. Like I said, I need to think a little more about this before I write something profoundly stupid…

MB:
Donning my Skunk Suit for this Garden Party…
As Alan Moore so succinctly put it:

“Existance[sic] is random. Has no pattern save what we imagine after staring at it for too long. No meaning save what we choose to impose. This rudderless world is not shaped by vague metaphysical forces. It is not God who kills the children. Not fate that butchers them nor destiny that feeds them to the dogs. It’s us. Only us.”

Me:
Re: Donning my Skunk Suit for this Garden Party…
Thank you for that stunning visual of the reality that is what we ourselves do in the name of right.

And lest someone mistake my meaning, I agree with you on this.

Like I said, it isn’t called God. I’m a firm believer in conservation of energy, but that’s tough to describe in the metaphysical sense, when determining how we came to be. That we choose to do what we do with what we have is another, often sadder (though not always), story. And that some people need to be led like sheep is, in a way, sort of sad in and of itself.

I suppose it’s a search for ways to cope with existence, and why I’m ever so much less likely than someone who buys the whole “better place to be” thing to take my own life (or anyone else’s). It’s what we have here and now that matters most, not what’s coming afterwards. There’s a lot of folks who would do well to remember that in their daily lives.

SK:
Interestingly enough, there are even some Pentacostals who are having this aspect to their faith – reinterpreting, or perhaps interpreting for the first time, the idea of the sacrifice of Christ Jesus. Would a loving God consign anyone who did not accept Jesus in that way as damned? Not all Christians think so.

Now I do believe in Christ as personal savior – but then, if I do that, I must accept that Christ will have different ways for each person. That’s the “personal” part.

Me:
Would a loving God consign anyone who did not accept Jesus in that way as damned? Not all Christians think so.

Interestingly enough, that’s almost an exact quote from the Reverend, and she came to roughly the same conclusion.

She, by the was, was Methodist before switching to UU.

JH:
the belief that only through Jesus can one actually get there after death.

I am very irked by the accepted translation of this. When Jesus was alive he (reportedly) said, “No one gets to the father except by me.” He then did this thing which supposedly allows sinners to go to Heaven. You’ll note by the weasel words that I don’t actually believe this, BUT…according to this story it sounds to me like what he meant was “I’m going to open that door” not “you have to follow me in order to get through it.” But I’m a baptist-raised ex-pagan Poohist, so what do I know :).

Me:
Ah-yup. All of which just goes to show that this stuff is WAY TOO open to interpretation to be taken as absolute *as written* in the book. Which I think is my biggest beef on the subject (and has been since high school, at least).

CS:
Yes. not only open to interpretation, but some interpretation is unavoidable. If the book says “blue” you may think of the sky on a clear, winter day and I may think of the ocean just before dawn. And we could both be wrong.

In my experience kindred spirits can be found in all faith traditions. One of the things I look for is a kind of openness. Open people admit that there is a lot they don’t know, much they can learn from others. Which leads to a tolerance for diversity.

Fanatics, of any belief system, have an answer for everything. And just one answer, at that.

But here’s a bit of antidote to that my-way-or-the-highway mentality:

“Indeed, when Gentiles, who do not have the law, do by nature things required by the law, they are a law for themselves, even though they do not have the law, since they show that the requirements of the law are written on their hearts, their consciences also bearing witness, and their thoughts now accusing, now even defending them.”

That’s St. Paul’s letter to the Romans. Can’t stand by everything the old coot said, but this one can help encourage tolerance.

Hope you find a good place to rest.

LS:
Random thoughts
Lots of thoughts. In the opening words at our service, we say,

“Love is the doctrine of this church; the quest of truth is its sacrament,and service is its prayer. To dwell together in peace, to seek knowledge in freedom, to serve humankind in fellowship, to the end that all souls shall grow into harmony with the Divine. This is our great Covenant, one with another, and with our god.”

When I get caught up in god or goddess or no god or whatever, I really feel those words “the Divine.” Broad enough to be whatever I need it to be, and personal enough to carry me.

Someone else quoted the part about Jesus talking about being the way into his father’s house. I believe (and I’m not going to look it up, I’m too lazy to get off the couch) that right after this, Jesus also says something to the effect that there are many rooms in his father’s house.

There’s a fabulous book written by a UU minister called “Finding Your Religion.” The guy’s name is Scotty McLennan; he was the model for Rev. Scott Sloan in Doonesbury, and is just about as cool as the cartoon character. Rev. Scotty battled with just that question about whether you *have to* accept Jesus as your personal avatar before being saved; the minister with whom he was having a series of soul-searching debates at a crucial time in his life finally, in exasperation, told him, basically, you sound as looney as a UU–why don’t you go check them out? It’s a fun read and I highly recommend it for the soul-searching person. You can get it through amazon or through uua.org’s bookstore.

Glad your UU church worked out for you. Hope it continues to do so.

On the subject of Easter and some of the things I’ve heard…

On the subject of Easter and some of the things I’ve heard…

It’s been a long time since I waxed philosophical. I guess Spring brings it out of me.

First, before I get to the discussion, I want to repost the UU Principles, because I’m going to come back to them in a bit. If you don’t read them now, you might want to go back and read them after you read the rest.

There are seven principles which Unitarian Universalist congregations affirm and promote:

  • The inherent worth and dignity of every person;
  • Justice, equity and compassion in human relations;
  • Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth in our congregations;
  • A free and responsible search for truth and meaning;
  • The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within our congregations and in society at large;
  • The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all;
  • Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.

Unitarian Universalism (UU) draws from many sources:

  • Direct experience of that transcending mystery and wonder, affirmed in all cultures, which moves us to a renewal of the spirit and an openness to the forces which create and uphold life;
  • Words and deeds of prophetic women and men which challenge us to confront powers and structures of evil with justice, compassion, and the transforming power of love;
  • Wisdom from the world’s religions which inspires us in our ethical and spiritual life;
  • Jewish and Christian teachings which call us to respond to God’s love by loving our neighbors as ourselves;
  • Humanist teachings which counsel us to heed the guidance of reason and the results of science, and warn us against idolatries of the mind and spirit.
  • Spiritual teachings of earth-centered traditions which celebrate the sacred circle of life and instruct us to live in harmony with the rhythms of nature.

These principles and sources of faith are the backbone of our religious community.

Honestly, I don’t know why it took me so long to just say I was UU and get on with it.

Now, here’s what I experienced on Sunday:

I attended two services last Sunday. The first (to which we arrived late because it’s hard to drag small children out of warm beds at 8am) was held outdoors at the home of two of our members. It was cold (near freezing) but there was a bonfire and the sun was gloriously up in a clear, blue sky.

The service was led by both our current minister and our minister emeritus. There was an altar with a chalice which may or may not have stayed lit. The first part had to do with the darkness and light, with the spring and its relationship to our various religious sources. The second had to do with the renewal and rebirth that comes in Spring. An interesting parallel was drawn in the death of Jesus, the symbolic shutting out of the light into darkness (winter) and the subsequent ressurection (spring). This becomes important in the second service, but I’ll get there shortly.

There were additional rituals involved: In the first part, we each took a pen and paper and wrote down the things that weighted us down, and then tossed the paper in the fire to lift the weight of our own stones. You can probably guess what my paper said.

The second part involved taking a small bit of dirt and planting seeds in it, as a sign of renewal. (With my brown thumb these days, I have little hope that the plants will actually thrive, but it was a good thought at least.)

Many of the ancient gods and goddesses were thanked for bringing back the light and then we all went in, got warm and had breakfast.

In an hour and a half we were in the sanctuary, going through the usual rituals of service. Some of the traditions we keep each year (Easter bonnets, new clothes…) come from rites going back millenia.

Then there was the sermon. And in it I put together another piece of the puzzle that, for me, helps to explain what was being taught in 1BC and how it’s transmogrified over time to today’s view.

Rev. S. started the discussion by reading several passages from the bible: The passage about Peter and the denial, and about Judas and his suicide. And then, she moved on to Simon Paul and she shared that some believe he created Easter. That caught my attention.

I know that early Christian leaders often took existing “pagan” rituals and incorporated them as Christian holidays so that those who were not already Christian could relate in some way to the new faith. But somehow I had thought that Easter was somehow different. I don’t know why. The equinoxes certainly have their places in historic religions, though not as high on the list as the solstices. Still, with eggs and rabbits and chicks as universal symbols of Easter, it’s pretty obvious that the whole ancient fertility ritual was incorporated to make a connection to the ressurection of Jesus. I get that.

But what I hadn’t gotten until Sunday was that there was a question about the actual corporeal “rising of Christ” that makes Easter Sunday such a big deal. I didn’t realize how many Christians didn’t believe in the literalness of that event.

Ok, so for me (agnostic that I am), egg dyeing and chocolate are far more synonomous with Easter than anything to do with celebrating the rising of Jesus, but that’s because it’s another pagan ritual and, frankly, it’s fun. But I really hadn’t given it so much thought until this year.

Why is it the belief of so many that Jesus walked on earth again and why do people cling to this as a sign of hope in this sometimes bleak world? I just didn’t get it. Sure, there are ghosts. I do believe in that. But ghosts don’t come back in that traditional sense.

So… Here’s what I heard last Sunday.

What Jesus was teaching was mainly the same seven principles UUs believe. These concepts, presented at a time when Jews were kept under the thumbs of the Romans, were detrimental to the Roman priests because without the attention of the populace, their temples would fall and they would lose their hold on the people as a result (and all that nifty income in the form of tribute to the gods). No priest could safely preach that god could be found inside each person – there would be no reason to go to the temple and pay to be saved.

As I understand it, his basic teaching was that you could find the kingdom of heaven within yourself and to mistreat others was to mistreat yourself. People have misinterpreted what Jesus was saying: “If you believe what I believe, you’ll get there, too.” Instead they heard “Only through me.” Believe in Jesus and you’d be saved. It should have been “Believe in what Jesus is saying and you’ll save yourself.”

So, here we are, with the Romans seeing the following Jesus brought with him to Jerusalem for the Passover Seder, and they saw a threat to their cozy existence living off of believers of the gods.

Interestingly, earlier that week I watched a history channel program on “Machines of the Gods” which made the priest’s role that much clearer to me, so when I was listening to the sermon, I had these images of how the priests ensured people would come (and pay) to be protected.

The 13 desciples (including Judas, at least for a while) believed what Jesus did. Whether Judas did what he did because he stopped believing or believed so strongly that he was willing to martyr himself to forward the cause is really irrelevant. Peter stopped believing and was repentant after Jesus was gone, but only after denying he knew the man as predicted. Paul still believed but couldn’t figure out how Jesus’ death could be reconciled with the concepts Jesus taught.

And then, it struck Paul: He didn’t need the physical Jesus there in order to keep believing what he’d been taught. He still had faith in the teaching, though the teacher was gone.

How often do we hear that even though someone has died, that person is still with you?

Got me, hook, line and sinker. I got it.

And I find it terribly interesting that in the face of what Jesus was trying to teach, the medieval Christian priests took a page from the book the Romans wrote hundreds of years earlier, and suddenly people were paying them to be saved, only through miracles and by coming to the church to pray (and by renouncing everything else in the bargain).

So that leaves me with something else: I am donating money to my church because we do things and because upkeep is expensive. What I pay for in exchange is given in part to maintain the building, in part to pay my minister’s salary, in part for charity to other members (as needed), in part to build for activities we partake in as a group. I don’t pay because I fear that if I don’t, I won’t get to heaven.

For us it’s all about community and not about being saved. Perhaps that’s why we’re so much more interested in making sure our planet is protected. We aren’t all convinced that the place we’re going to is better than this one and that we need to be better about caring for ourselves and our future here, rather than treading water until we go to paradise.

Now I know not every Christian feels that way. I know plenty of people who listen to the message and don’t necessarily idolize or even deify the man. But I can’t help wondering what kind of people would pay so much to belong to a church and call themselves Christian, then turn around and throw in the trash bags full of perfectly good clothing and toys because, after all, they have no further use for the objects. (Collected the bags in my car, from a Curb Alert on Freecycle, because I couldn’t stand the thought that these things could go to a dump.)

Maybe if we spent a little less time thinking about where we’re going in the end, and spent a little more time thinking about where we are right now and what it’s going to be like in the coming years, we wouldn’t be pouring our money into a useless war that only benefits the very few with their money invested in oil.

After all, who would Jesus bomb?

Happy Spring!

Musing About Death…

Musing About Death…

I’ve had this post brewing in the back of my mind since I started listening to Rent (and really, since I saw the movie last fall).

I think my thoughts have solidified enough to write what I’ve been thinking, on and off, over the months.

Warning!!! Serious musings on the value of life, the meaninglessness of death, and other associated issues follow. Some seriously graphic depictions of a chronic illness – of which some of my friends have been diagnosed, are described. Please read at your own risk.

I am 42 years old at the writing of this post. I will be 43 this coming November.

While this may not seem to be a significant birthday to most of you, for me it’s a major milestone.

My mother (born on in 1934, died in 1978), was 43 years old when she finally succumbed to Chronic Progressive (now called Primary Progressive) Multiple Sclerosis.

She was bedridden, unable to do anything for herself, from approximately 1968/69 until her death. Her doctors treated her with cortisone, but it didn’t help and she eventually moved home to be cared for by her parents, including her father (a General Practitioner for his neighborhood).

I was 14.

This is background information, intended to explain why I am suddenly obsessed (I don’t think there’s a better word right now) with listening to the music – and particularly the words – of the soundtrack. It’s not really a music virus. I’m attempting to absorb the incongruity and irony that is Rent. It is a monument to survival in the face of difficult, sometimes horrifying circumstances. And it was written by someone who faced his own final deadline without knowing it.

“No day but today,” indeed.

If one was to investigate why I have taken on so many time-intensive projects, why I have felt the need to commit my self and my time so often and so intensely, one really only has to look at the first three paragraphs, and to listen to the music and the words of Rent to fully understand.

Life is short. It’s an overused cliche and a state of mind all at the same time – a personal philosophy which very often drives my sense of purpose.

It’s impossible to pack everything into a single life. There isn’t enough time in the day, not enough energy in the world. But that simple phrase – no day but today – explains so much about why I find it so utterly offensive that anyone could condone the taking of life (ANY life).

I don’t have answers. I don’t know what to do if someone else takes a life. Is it okay to take that person’s life in exchange? I don’t know. I suppose it’s appropriate to think, in theory, that by taking a life one forfeits the right to keep one’s own, but do any of us have the right to take that life? How can we say that it’s okay to take a life in one case and not okay to take a life in another, depending on circumstances?

Those who speak on behalf of the righteous believe that they have the authority to do as they please, based on their conception of “right” and “law.” I believe there are basic rights and laws that are incontrovertable and not definable by any written work. And yet…

There is the question of abortion. There is the question of capitol punishment. There is the question of justice in the face of an attack on innocent bystanders who happened to get to work too early in the morning and were in the path of incoming airplanes carrying other innocent bystanders. There is the “rescue” of a people oppressed, who then take the opportunity to incite civil war based on religious belief.

How do we reconcile ourselves to allow one of these acts and not another? How can people look at each other and decide, based on belief, that one person should be allowed to live while another should die?

And, in the end, what do we accomplish when we set out to “protect” one life from being taken by another? At what cost?

I’ve been accused of being idealistic. Unrealistic. A pacifist (and that’s apparently an evil thing to some people).

I don’t have answers to these questions, but they are burning me up inside. I am trying to coexist with an increasingly hostile environment. And the only thing that saves me from moving on to something “better” is that I have no clear assurance that there is, in fact, something better. I think there may be something different, but I have no guarantees that this is the case. And I have learned that there is no better purpose to life than to live it here and now.

I can intellectualize life in 40 years. I have extant examples of people who live well into their 90s – even in my own family. But I also have shining examples of extended life gone horribly wrong, too. It shows in the face of my mother-in-law every time we go to visit her in the nursing home. She and my mother (had she lived) would be near the same age. It shows in the vivid descriptions of my friend’s father, who suffers from dementia. It shows in my family history – where we live to old age if we don’t die of cancer, but with dementia, or heart disease, or blindness, or in some other enfeebled state. None of my oldest relatives, save possibly Great Aunt Annie and First Cousin Thrice Removed Harry, maintained useful lives into their 90s.

There is, in fact, no day but today.

So how do I reconcile this knowledge with seeking out life-threatening activities in the name of protection and service? The short answer is, I can’t. I am told that it must be done. Someone has to do it. My response is “why?” All the justification in the world doesn’t seem to make it better, when those who should serve to protect my interests fail to understand what my interests are and how I interpret them.

The Earth is a wonderful land. It truly is. Anyone who has visited the Grand Canyon or the California Redwoods or the wilds of the Adirondack mountains knows what I mean. I can’t speak for other lands – my experience is far too limited, but I can take what I know of North America and extend it globally. And if we don’t start recognizing that what we have is a gift (from God or whatever), and that it and ALL its people with the same respect and reverence, then in the end we will have nothing.

When I see global warming warnings brushed aside in the name of our human importance and our innate right to do as we please, when I hear that we can go to war against a people because we are protecting another people, when I hear that a person may be killed for the $60 someone else thinks is more important than the life of that person, I feel ill.

We will soon be short on doctors. We will lack teachers to teach the people how to save themselves. We will descend into the next Dark Ages as our world heats up. And we will have no one to save when that time comes. It won’t be my children who will see this horrible change, but their children, or their children’s children. A few generations more and the only thing left will be the cockroaches and a few stragglers who will be left to pick up what’s left.

Can we break the cycle? I wish I knew – for the sake of my children. I want them to know a world where everyone is treated the same, regardless of the color of their skin, their religious beliefs, or their last name. I want them to know a dark sky filled with stars. I want them to see a world where people respect each other, help each other. Where one person’s worth is not judged by his bankbook or her DVD collection or the political connections he has.

And for me? I wish I had more time. And if I didn’t that I knew when I was leaving, so that I could plan accordingly.

And that I could do something to make this world better than it is right now.

And that my actions would inspire other people to do the same.

And finally, that nobody would have to experience what I have. But then, I guess people don’t learn unless they have examples, do they?

Theme: Elation by Kaira.